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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172001">Pride (in the Name of Love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza'>emmaliza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blake's 7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Porn, Apology Sex, Episode: s03e6 City at the Edge of the World, Guilt, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, apology blowjob</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:41:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarrant apologises to Vila for his behaviour. It's not as difficult as he expects it to be. That's what's so difficult.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vila Restal/Del Tarrant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pride (in the Name of Love)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title comes from the song by U2.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you want?”</p>
<p>Vila has been drinking. Tarrant can't exactly say he's surprised by that, but he knows it's not going to make this any easier. He forces himself not to get irritated. <em>That's</em> not going to help either. “I thought we should talk,” he says. “Can I come in?”</p>
<p>He raises his eyebrows, but Vila steps aside to let him into his rooms. When he enters however, Vila comments: “I don't suppose I have much of a choice, do I?”</p>
<p>“Of course you do.” Tarrant recoils at the accusation, but from the angry disbelief in Vila's eyes, he sees where it is coming from. He sighs deeply. He knew this wouldn't be simple. “Vila I <em>am</em> sorry.”</p>
<p>“I know. You said.” But Vila doesn't sound like he cares any more than he did on the flight deck. Tarrant feels like tearing his hair out. Guilt is boiling away at him, but if Vila won't forgive him, there's nothing he can <em>do</em> about it, and he hates emotions he can't do anything about. They make him feel helpless, and there's nothing he hates more than being helpless – that's how they got into this stupid situation in the first.</p>
<p>“Tarrant, you said you wanted to talk,” Vila snaps him out of his reverie. “Then talk. What do you have to say?”</p>
<p>He hesitates. What does he have to say for himself that he hasn't said already? “It's just... if you ever need anything...” he shifts his body posture to be as warm and inviting as he can make it. “Well, I feel like I owe you. So whatever you want, just ask, and it's yours.”</p>
<p>Vila gives him a curious look then. Tarrant isn't sure why, but he can see Vila's eyes dart across him quickly, putting something together. “Er, Tarrant,” he says, sounding uncomfortable, “when you came here to apologise – you didn't come here to 'apologise', did you?”</p>
<p>It takes Tarrant a second to realise what he means. Then his eyebrows shoot up in alarm. No, that isn't what he was offering, why would Vila even think that? He'd best make that clear. Politely, mind, no need to make things worse again, but he's not...</p>
<p>Then he thinks about it a little. Well, why not? Maybe it's been awhile, but it's not as if he's never been with men before, he should remember how it works. Vila is considerably smaller than him; he shouldn't feel too emasculated. And he came here to apologise, after all. Why not try and make Vila feel good in exchange for having hurt him?</p>
<p>He hesitates, not quite sure how to shape his lips around the words, but what he comes out with is: “Would you like that?”</p>
<p>Vila squints at him suspiciously. He looks like he doesn't trust this, thinks Tarrant might be playing some game with him – but still his hand sneaks warily behind Tarrant's neck, afraid he'll be burned any minute. Then he pulls him in for a kiss.</p>
<p>Tarrant startles a bit at the smack of thin lips against his own, but he doesn't pull away. The burn of stubble against his cheeks is a bit of a surprise, reminding him that no, this really isn't a woman he's gotten himself entangled with, but Vila is a surprisingly good kisser – or maybe it's not so surprising, he admits reluctantly – and so it's easy to be distracted. Vila's lips pull away from his teasingly, and Tarrant chases them; he moves a hand to try and grab the back of Vila's neck, but he's deflected easily, Vila's hands landing on his chest to keep him in place.</p>
<p>He pauses. He realises now is not the best time to be pushy. The stand there, breathing hotly against each others mouths, until Vila speaks up. “We'd better move to the bed,” he says, something dark and uncharacteristically serious burning in his eye. “If we're going to do this. Don't want to put my back out.”</p>
<p>The bed is a rumpled mess when Vila sits on it, at the very edge, giving Tarrant an expectant look. Tarrant follows him, but he hesitates – should he join Vila there, or kneel upon the ground, or simply lean over, or what? So he lets Vila's expert fingers grab him by the waist, pulling him down until they can kiss again, and while Vila's tongue in his mouth distracts him the man's hands head south, grabbing him by the arse and squeezing him firmly. Tarrant jumps, but he should have expected that, shouldn't he? No wonder the man's such a good thief.</p>
<p>He ends up with a knee either side of Vila's legs, practically crawling into his lap, winding an arm around the back of his neck to kiss him back more effectively. Arousal soaks through his body before he even realises it; he's enjoying this far more than he expected too. “Tarrant,” Vila pulls back again to murmur, so Tarrant redeploys his efforts, instead turning to leaving long, sucking kisses down the length of Vila's neck. Vila probably wouldn't be happy if he left a mark, but still, he likes to think he has some sort of instinct for people's erogenous zones...</p>
<p>“Tarrant, I want you on your knees,” says Vila, making him stop dead. “Is that okay?”</p>
<p>It shouldn't be. That should be humiliating, degrading, a level of helplessness he would never subject himself to – but then again, this is <em>meant</em> to be an apology, some level of humiliation must be par for the course. “Yes, fine,” he says, pulling his head back up and forcing himself to meet Vila's eyes. “Why wouldn't it be?”</p>
<p>So Vila nods at the floor and Tarrant, with only vague reluctance, follows the instruction, landing upon the cool metal with an ominous thud. He sees Vila's prick twitch at the sight through his trousers. A warm buzz settles under his skin then – not arousal, exactly, more like pride. Pride in the thought he is considered desirable, if only physically, by someone who has every reason to hate him.</p>
<p>Deep breaths. None of this is too new, or frightening to him. “So I suppose you want me to suck you off?” he asks casually, as if he's done that before.</p>
<p>Vila looks surprised, but he nods. “If you don't mind,” he says, already unfastening his trousers.</p>
<p>Tarrant grins at him. “It's the least I can do, right?” But as Vila unleashes himself, he freezes. Abruptly he realises he's never actually <em>seen</em> another man's cock like this – his experience with other men has always been quick, frantic handjobs under cover of darkness, or animal humping he could barely even interpret as sex. There's an honesty to this that makes him quake – certainly he's never had another man in his mouth before; he's thought about it, but he never wanted to suggest it, to look too eager, he was always waiting for someone else to insist, to say it was only fair, if they were willing to do it first. No-one ever did.</p>
<p>“Tarrant? Everything alright?”</p>
<p>“Perfect,” he insists quickly, because damned if he'll let Vila, of all people, think he's afraid of this. To that end he leans in and takes the tip of it between his lips, earning a sharp gasp at the sudden stimulus. Another wave of arousal crashes down his spine. Unconsciously he grabs Vila by the calf, squeezing to keep himself steady.</p>
<p>A pair of hesitant hands fold through his curls, not pulling him in further – yet. “That's it, Tarrant. Don't go too fast, alright? I want this to last.”</p>
<p>Tarrant looks up, meeting Vila's big brown eyes with his cock in his mouth. He wonders what the other man is thinking. <em>Why</em> does he want this to last? Is he just in the habit of drawing out his pleasure with any partner he stumbles across? Or is it the humiliation he wants to extend, the sense that Tarrant is on his knees to give him pleasure, and no matter how smug he might act in future he won't be able to erase that fact?</p>
<p>“Tarrant!” Vila hisses in pain while he's distracted. “Careful with the teeth, alright? Haven't you done this before?”</p>
<p>That comment turns him pink, but thankfully, he doesn't have to answer the question. Carefully he secures his teeth behind his gums, slowly daring to start moving back and forth, wrapping his tongue around just an inch or so, wondering what will make Vila tick. Those hands in his hair clutch at him a little, and Tarrant shivers, arousal warm and simmering again. It's not the cock in his mouth that turns him on – that's a little strange, but in the end just a bit of meat, something boring and normal like holding a thermometre in his mouth for his requisite medical. No, it's those <em>hands</em> that do it for him. Hands, pulling his hair, urging him on deeper, faster, more, demanding what he's already giving. It's Vila's thighs twitching against his neck, barely repressing the urge to thrust. It's his voice, starting to give out deliberate moans, telling him how well he's doing, how good he is at this, how much he is wanted... “Yes, Tarrant, that's it.”</p>
<p>Vila's hand moves to the back of his head, pulling him down further, and Tarrant lets him. Some vague fear stabs at him then, and he reassures himself with the thought: <em>I am apologising. I have to let him do what he wants.</em> It's bizarrely liberating.</p>
<p>It's difficult, keeping his teeth out of the way while Vila presses deeper and deeper into his mouth, and the further he goes the more difficult it becomes to breathe. Tarrant reaches between his legs with one hand and squeezes himself roughly – he's painfully aroused by all this, and he can't bring himself to be surprised by the fact.</p>
<p>When he's moaning, hand fixed tight around himself, letting Vila push into his mouth until he's almost choking, of course <em>that's</em> the moment Vila chooses to pull away, groaning in hunger as a trail of saliva connects the two of them.”Ah, hang on a second, there.” He's out of breath, panting as precome beads on the head of him, and Tarrant takes this as some sort of victory. “I said I wanted this to last, didn't I? What are you so needy for? What bloody affection was lacking from your childhood?”</p>
<p>That turns him red again, hand crawling up the length of Vila's shin desperately. “I don't <em>need</em> anything,” he insists, until he reaches the thigh and squeezes tight. “I want to make it up to you, that's all.”</p>
<p>“Right.” Vila doesn't sound even slightly convinced. His hand grabs Tarrant's own, moving him over until he's wrapping Tarrant's fingers around his own cock, the flesh hot and pulsing underneath. “Try using your hands too, okay? I'm not the sort to get off on my partners choking to death in front of me.”</p>
<p>He is embarrassed, unable to shake the thought Vila is seeing right through him – unsettling, because he did not know he was putting on an act. Still, the request itself is perfectly reasonable. Tarrant closes his palm around thick, warm flesh and really, that's more familiar to him than the rest of it, so this should be fine. He will be just fine.</p>
<p>Vila moans as Tarrant starts lapping at the head of him again, precome dripping easily into his mouth now. He's not sure what he makes of the taste, really, but Vila's hands still cling to his hair loosely, and so Tarrant makes himself keep going, not ready to keep going.</p>
<p>Now he thinks of it, Vila seems awfully still, despite what's being done to him, despite a tremor that spreads through his thighs and yet seems to stop at his torso – almost as if he's holding back. Tarrant grins to himself, as best he can, at the thought.</p>
<p>“Are you going to come, Vila?” he pulls back to ask, making Vila shudder as he breathes wetly across his length. “That's alright, I can take it.” He squeezes his fingers as tight around Vila's cock as he dares. “Now just let me...”</p>
<p>Vila yanks hard on his curls to shut him up. “Tarrant, I want to come on your face,” he says, and his eyes shift downwards to meet Tarrant's own. “Is that alright?”</p>
<p>He is struck dumb. <em>No, of course not, that's degrading, that's disgusting, why would I let you do that to me?</em> Is what he ought to say, but this is meant to be an apology, and– “Of course, why not?” he's come out with before he's really had time to think about it.</p>
<p>Smirking, Vila does not make it clear is he was asking, or he was daring. His fingers close over Tarrant's own once again, forcing the rhythm into want he wants, and Tarrant can't help but let his eyes drift shut and–</p>
<p>Something hot and wet splashes across his jaw and then, Tarrant can't explain what happens. A wave of bliss hits him, more psychological than physical – but physical enough that he lets out a needy whimper, his back stiffens ramrod straight, and his trousers are suddenly soaked through his he orgasms inside them, without even a hand on his own cock.</p>
<p>It takes Vila far too long to finish, thick ropes of semen all over Tarrant's cheeks and brow, and he'd be lying if he says he doesn't push his tongue out idly, wondering how it tastes. Pleasure infuses his whole body, more than the easy, simple release of climax, but Tarrant doesn't have words for what it is.</p>
<p>Panting loudly, obnoxiously above him, Vila brings him back to reality sooner or later. Semen is starting to harden against his skin. Hurriedly, Tarrant pushes himself away, back onto his feet, not wanting to be in such a submissive position any longer than necessary.</p>
<p>“Tarrant?” Vila still sounds half-drunk on his orgasm, which is too be expected, really. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Tarrant tells him, wiping the come off his face with the back of his hand. He wouldn't expect Vila to understand – about pride, about dignity, about status. “I'd best head back to my rooms.”</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Vila frown at him. “You know, if I was a gentleman, I'd offer to let you spend the night.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, lucky for both of us that you aren't, then!” When he meets Vila's eye again, he sees something – a resentment still burning. Yes, Tarrant will suck him off to apologise to him, to alleviate his own guilt, but that won't stop him lashing out when he's afraid. Whatever he's afraid of.</p>
<p>Tarrant shakes his head and leaves the room. Once he's out into the dull hum of the corridors at night, he takes a second to get his breath back.</p>
<p>He apologised to Vila, did not enjoy it anymore than he needed to, and he is going to be just fine.</p>
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